


Sleepless

by lokimostly



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Injury, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-11-02 07:50:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20674019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokimostly/pseuds/lokimostly
Summary: The reader suffers from regular night terrors, and finds help from her neighbor down the hall.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I dredged this up from two years ago because I've been thinking about it lately. Might write a sequel. Enjoy!

Your feet padded softly along the cool corridor floor as you pulled the thin blanket closer to your skin, biting your lip hard enough to taste iron. Your body shook with the aftermath of adrenaline, cool sweat on your skin, teeth chattering and overheating all at once. Any other evening, and you might’ve stopped between the pillars to admire Asgard’s night sky. Tonight, the cool glow reflected on your skin in a sickly way. Your fingers trembled against your parted lips as you continued on, trying to pry your mind away from your dreams.

It was a familiar habit by now. Most nights you woke up before the sun screaming like a warrior in battle. Sometimes you escaped, jolting up, chest heaving in a cold sweat. But the fight was in your head, and there were no weapons you could reach, and every attempt to run turned time slow, slow, slow…

He caught you, once. Loki had been passing through the hallway and heard screams tearing your throat. You’d terrified him, not knowing what to do or how to help. His hands had gripped your face, panicked and desperate. And oh, the embarrassment you felt, for him to know your struggle. But he’d dismissed your apologies and amiably admitted that “it happens to the best of us” -Something that rang in your head now as you stood outside the gilded double doors where you knew the sleepless prince to be reading.

You tried for an unmeasured amount of time to compose yourself before acknowledging that it was the reason why you were here: you were terrified, and couldn’t hide it. Not just of your dreams- scared of him, in a way. Scared of being vulnerable towards someone who… well… someone you loved. 

_Not important, _you reminded yourself. With a shaky grimace and trembling legs, you rapped your knuckles against the door.

Loki’s eyes darted up from the page and his heart quickened. He knew the knock - it had become a regular occurrence. A welcome one. Even though his heart throbbed with guilt every time he saw your tear-stained face, the more sadistic side of him enjoyed the fact that you came to _him _for help. You trusted him. Well… maybe. 

He quickly set aside the book and stood, stretching his long legs and glancing at the balcony. The breeze was making the curtains dance and tangle, and he wondered briefly if he should close the doors. Then he heard you knock again, more quietly, and he pressed his lips together.

The door opened and you stared up at the face you longed for- even if the person behind that face didn’t know it. His brow creased slightly as his eyes took you in, noting your weak muscles and wet eyes. Loki felt the familiar tightening in his chest and resisted the urge to kiss you. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” you whispered lamely, your voice unevenly pitched. He simply nodded, hair falling forward, pulling the door further. You stepped inside, glancing at the whispering curtains, the draft hitting your legs, cooling your skin and making you shiver. As the door clicked shut your eyes moved to his bedside table, where his book lay open on its spine.

“I interrupted,” you realized weakly, suddenly feeling guilt settle in the pit of your stomach.

“Of course not,” he murmured, picking up the book and conjuring a thin bookmark to hold his place. The book snapped shut with a dull _thmp_ in Loki’s hands and he moved to put it in the drawer, glancing at you over his shoulder. He watched your eyes follow the curtains and his chest tightened. You looked awful. Your hair was out of place and tangled, skin gaunt and eyes pale. What would he say? The desire to see you sleep soundly- and his inability to make it so- was so strong it angered him. Moreover, he wasn’t quite sure why. At least, he didn’t want to admit it.

“Do you want to talk?” Loki’s soft voice ushered you back to the present and you jumped slightly in surprise before pressing your lips together and shaking your head. Images flashing through your mind put a stone in your throat- one that threatened to make you cry if you tried to speak. You knew you must look awful- standing barefoot on the stone, trembling uncontrollably. But you couldn’t help it.

Loki sighed and walked over to you slowly, his hand moving up under your chin, almost affectionately. 

“What can I do?” He pleaded, his green eyes roaming your face for something he could read into, some inner psych he could understand. But you were a mystery to him, and always had been. 

You looked up at him, pulling your blanket around your shoulders and opening your mouth. The words failed on the way up your throat, and you closed your lips in defeat, creasing your eyebrows painfully. Loki watched you and frowned, letting his hand drop. He looked up at the ceiling, as if for guidance, running a hand through his hair.

“Hold me,” you whispered finally, hugging your arms as close to your body as possible. 

His eyes snapped down. He’d misheard, surely.“What?”

“Please,” you whispered weakly, fighting the urge to cry with every ounce of resolve left. _So stupid, _you chastised yourself. _Of all the things to say! _You grimaced and pressed your palm to your eye. Your eyelashes were wet and cold.

Loki’s chest shuddered slightly and his breath caught in his throat. His damn brain wasn’t working. This wasn’t what normally happened - you came in, you talked, he wrapped a blanket over you if he was feeling brave. Loki knew how fragile you were when you appeared outside his door, despite all your appearances as a warrior in daytime. He wasn’t one to let the night hours give him the right to be deplorable. Moreover, he trusted the doubts that told him you only came to his room because it was closest.

Yet here you were, crying in front of him, with a simple request. And he wanted nothing more than to fulfill it. But the curtains were tangling the thoughts in his head, and he stood there, frozen in time. 

Would you have asked Thor the same thing, or Fandral? Perhaps you always came to him by choice. Or was he overthinking the entire thing, and you simply needed a companion, regardless of who it was? At that last revelation he deflated slightly, about to embark on a more depressing train of thought, until he heard the creak of the door.

“No-” he gripped your wrist gently, stopping you halfway out into the hallway. 

“Please,” Loki pleaded. “Stay.” His slender fingers slid down to capture your hand, enveloping them carefully, like he was afraid to break your fingers if he gripped them too hard.

You stared at him for a long moment before conceding and stepping forward. Loki wrapped his arms around you automatically, one hand falling to your head and petting your hair while his other thumb rubbed circles in your back. You felt your muscles release tension immediately as you groaned a little and closed your eyes, too tired and weak to care that the man whose love you craved was struggling to steady his breaths.

The two of you stood together in the dark for an infinite moment. The wind untangled the curtains in whispers and pushed the door shut with a soft _click._

Loki watched in awe as you seemed to come undone, his hand moving gently against your back until you were leaning almost entirely against him. When your body stopped trembling, he used the opportunity to move his hand down under your knees and lift you effortlessly, cradling you against him. 

“S’alright, love,” he murmured, hoping you couldn’t feel his heartbeat through his thin shirt. You curled inwards against his chest, the circles under your eyes looking a little less dark, and a small leap in his chest affirmed that maybe he’d done the right thing after all. 

He laid down carefully on the bed, propped against the pillows with your body atop his. Your hair fell down over your face and you stirred, nudging your way up and tucking your head under his chin. Loki hummed amiably, green eyes mirroring a thousand thoughts as your breathing evened. His fingers ran over your hair as questions danced around in his mind, wondering at the doubts he’d believed for so long. 

He didn’t know much, but at least he knew you’d sleep soundly tonight. And that comfort was enough to let his eyes close. The wind stirred the curtains slightly, twisting them out of their tangled mess, and the two of you fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just because you slept in the same bed now, didn’t mean you slept soundly.

Just because you slept in the same bed now, didn’t mean you slept soundly.

It was different, yes. Loki, who rarely rested and often spent his nights poring over old tomes, moved from his desk to the bed in order to watch over you. He was quick to notice your whimpers and pull you away from your dreams. More often than not it was his hands cupping your face that roused you from sleep, not the morning light coming through the curtains. Fear and pain ebbed away under the tenderness of his touch and the low rumbling of his voice when he held you against his chest, brushing the baby hairs away from your clammy forehead, pulling you back to the reality that treated you so much more kindly than your sleeping mind. The man who was once like forbidden fruit behind guilded doors now cradled you in his arms, whispering promises and stringing together stories to calm your racing heartbeat. 

There were lulls. Sometimes you went for weeks without a bad dream. You would wake up entangled and slightly suffocated by the pressure of Loki’s body on top of yours, blinking in the rosy light of dawn. Those mornings were long and lazy and wonderful, like drinking sweet tea during midsummer and eating sugar-coated fruit. You swore his lips tasted like honey whenever you kissed them. 

But when the forces of Asgard were called to fight in Vanaheim, your home, you knew that you would take home the clashing metal and battle cries, the pouring blood and tearing flesh and all the foul torments of war. It would mean the end of your clean streak and the beginning of a new set of terrors. 

You hadn’t expected to be wounded. The reach of your enemy’s lance cut deep along your ribs, and it wasn’t until long afterwards – your body strewn across the bloodstained grass and counting every ragged breath – that Loki found you. While the softer part of you wanted to melt into his touch, bury your face in his neck and wish a way the pain, the battleworn warrior in you gritted her teeth and refused to cry out when he lifted you up and took you through the Bifrost.

It was different, yes. Your visit to the infirmary was brief and you left quickly, unlike the other times when you found yourself bedridden there for days. Loki seemed to take it upon himself personally to care for you in every way, battle wounds included.

By the time you found yourself in his bed again, night had long since fallen. The end of summer on Asgard brought the stars above into full splendor. Most evenings were filled with streaking meteors, and more studious astronomers turned to their rooftop telescopes to get a better look at the galaxies stretching outwards and lighting up the dark.

Normally, Loki would be doing the same: sitting on the banister of his balcony, staring up at the stars as the long watches of the night stretched by. Tonight, there was a different task on his mind.

He had escaped the battle relatively unscathed, thanks to a skillful combination of seidr and pure luck. There were a few cuts and grazes, as always – a piece of his hair had been chopped, much to his chagrin, which would have to be braided until it grew even again – but for the most part he returned home dirty, tired, and unharmed. You, on the other hand, needed to be cared for.

For once it wasn’t your dreams that was the problem. You couldn’t fall asleep at all. The pain on the right side of your ribs blossomed and burned no matter what position you were in. You twisted and turned cautiously, trying to find something that would work because by the Nine you were exhausted – 

Loki’s hand, previously holding his place on the page of the book in his lap, reached over and pressed gently to your ribcage. Green seidr wrapped around his fingers and spread through your skin, dulling your pain and slowing your mind. You barely had time to murmur a ‘thank you’ before the magic put your mind to sleep.

It didn’t last.

Loki was pushing his hair away from his face and frowning over a confusing passage when you surged upwards with a shout, tearing yourself away from your dreams and pulling at the tender stitches in your skin at the same time. Burning pain exploded like a lit match and you gasped, holding your side.

He abandoned the book without a second thought and leapt up, catching you against him when your supporting arm wobbled and pressing kisses to your temple. “Easy,” he murmured, the start of a continuous stream of comforts without thought. Guilt riddled his insides. How could he not have seen? Stupid, selfish, more absorbed in his books than in you sleeping fitfully beside him … 

You couldn’t sleep unaided. 

There was a bright streak of light from past the balcony and Loki’s green eyes flitted momentarily past the billowing curtains, where a curving meteor danced across the black and left a white streak. The breeze hit his face – cool and crisp, the first signs of autumn – and he felt you shiver in his arms.

Loki had an idea.

Carefully as he could, Loki tucked his arms around you and lifted you upwards, cradling you against his chest. His fingers snatched the ends of a blanket strewn lazily across the bed, and he carried you out to the balcony. 

The wind was intermittent and cold. The sweat that had formed on your skin during sleep chilled you, and the warm burning of your side only seemed to make it worse. Loki sat down on the large, cushioned bench outside and pulled the blanket over you – the warmth of his chest against your back, and the comfort of the blanket around your front. His hand slipped beneath the cover and gently replaced yours over the bandage, and he pressed another kiss to the side of your head.

“Do you see the stars?” He asked, his voice low and a little hoarse. A redundant question, but it was a start. You could only shiver and nod, curling deeper into his arms.

“Shall I tell you my favorite constellation, or would you like to go first?”

Your skittish eyes, still red-rimmed and shaking, drifted upwards. The sky was a dark mix of brighter hues: nebulae and galaxies scattered across like seeds along the ground, painting webs of pink and blue and purple.

Your eyes found the three-starred belt of Orwandil and you pointed, shakily, to his blinking outline. Loki’s chest vibrated when he hummed in approval, pulling you closer. “A good choice.” You felt his elegant fingers press into your skin, and a sudden surge of warmth – the wound in your flesh was being stitched together with seidr. 

You shifted. “Loki, save your energy.”

He reached up with his free hand and tucked a piece of your hair back. “I’ll spend it as I wish. Ask me which constellation I favor.” 

You smiled faintly, tiredly, and let your head fall back against his shoulder. “Fine. Tell me your favorite.” 

“Hmm.” Loki’s green eyes looked upwards and the colors of the sky reflected gently in his bright eyes. His face looked a little more hollow – healing magic was an expensive effort – but he took a deep breath and continued on. “Ulf’s Keptr,” he said finally.

“I don’t know that one.”

Loki reached up with his free hand and pointed. In the sky, a string of stars lit up in a faint green line, outlining the picture of a wolf holding a sword between his teeth. “Fenrir,” he explained quietly, returning his hand beneath the blanket. “Guarding the entrance to Hel.”

You laughed sleepily. “Of course.”

Loki’s lips turned up in a smile and he drew circles on your skin with his thumb. “Shall I tell you about the rest?” 

By the time the sun rose and Asgard’s sky turned pink with dawn, your eyes had fallen shut. Loki didn’t move. He held you fast against him, telling you about the maps of constellations even though you had fallen asleep long ago. Your wound was almost gone now – his energy had been depleted for a long time, but somehow he still managed, weaving seidr and speaking softly to keep you away from bad dreams. 

The curtains spun and whispered against the floor as the breeze turned warm and dew melted off the grass of the gardens below, and Loki carried you back to bed, where both of you slept soundly. 

**Author's Note:**

> Cheers and thanks for reading x


End file.
